


Devotion

by DarkCyradis



Category: Saint Seiya, Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: Character Tribute, Drama, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Mild Spoiler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-05
Updated: 2008-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkCyradis/pseuds/DarkCyradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Mild spoilers for StS: The Lost Canvas] Tribute to Pisces Albafica. At the end of the Holy War with Hades, Shion and Dohko reflect on the sad fate of the Pisces Saints, who live apart from human warmth to embrace the poisonous roses that are their weapon and Athena's last defense. Humorous omake chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Saint Seiya and Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas and all their lovely characters, trademarks, etc, do not belong to me. This is just a fanwork for fun.
> 
> Notes: Written after I read Pisces Albafica's heroic last stand in the Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas manga. Not really a spoiler since we hear in the original series that all the previous generation of Gold Saints died in the war against Hades except for Shion and Dohko. Enjoy! :D

One of the first things Shion had done upon becoming Pope was to bring a famed chemist to Sanctuary to devise an antidote for the poison of the Demon Rose. Dohko had been incredulous when his friend had told him so over dinner one evening. 

“What on earth are you thinking?!” he’d exclaimed. “The Demon Rose Path is the final defense to the Pope’s Temple—your final defense! Why would you ever want an antidote created for it?”

“It’s just as you say, Dohko,” Shion had replied calmly. “It would be disastrous in the hands of an enemy, but I intend to guard it closely once it’s created. As the new Pope of Sanctuary, I’ll be living just above that poisonous pathway and will have to pass through it every time I want to descend to the other houses or training grounds. While the Demon Roses won’t kill on contact without the Pisces Saint’s cosmo bidding them so, consider how few of us Saints are left now. Especially with you leaving to guard the specters’ seal, my life and strength will be needed at Sanctuary for many years to come, my friend. I cannot afford to succumb to this poison.” 

He had said it all perfectly detachedly, rationally, but Dohko had suddenly understood, and when Shion had turned back to look at him, he had found his friend regarding him with a sympathetic look that had nothing to do with slow decay from toxic fumes. Dohko had nodded his shaggy head then and said, “All right, all right. Do it, as long as you know that chemist is trustworthy.”

Shion had smiled. “I know. That’s why I called an old friend from Jamir. The Jamirians are as loyal a people to Athena as there are.”

Neither had said it, but both knew—even more than safety and bodily resistance for Shion, who would live above the poisonous roses, this antidote meant safety for the one who would live directly among them: the next Pisces Saint. 

No one but he could know or imagine it, but Dohko knew that Shion had been deeply moved by the lately deceased Pisces Saint, Albafica. For all his otherworldly mystique and immense supernatural powers, Shion was a man who lived among men, and if he wasn’t the most demonstrative or sociable of the brotherhood, he was a keen observer of others. His heart had gone out to the beautiful and solitary Pisces Albafica, whose cold, detached front had turned his many would-be friends and suitors away from him and earned him a reputation as a narcissistic ice queen. Dohko, himself, had thought as much, though he wasn’t one to draw lines or hold grudges. But Shion had seen through it, through Albafica’s façade, when few others would have cared to: it was all a front created by Albafica to keep people away from his poisonous body, rendered toxic after years of living amongst the roses that were his weapon and the fail-safe last defense of the Pope and Athena herself. 

“What a fate that must be,” he had said to Shion, the night after the first skirmish at Sanctuary, the night they’d sat up and kept vigil for Albafica. “To take on not only the immense burdens and responsibilities of a Gold Saint, but to take the sacrificial fate of the Pisces Saint, knowing that to don that Cloth, to guard that temple, was to write your own death sentence.”

“We are all of us consigned to die from the day of our births, Dohko,” Shion had replied. “You and I and Albafica as much as any man, if sooner; but we Saints take the Cloth knowing that our lives are to end well before they might have naturally. What I lament for Albafica is that he had to spend these final and prime years of his life so alone. It is the voluntary sacrifice of even the warmth of human companionship, of the bond of camaraderie that is every Saint’s only earthly delight, that saddens me.”

And Dohko had nodded, feeling at last the undoing tragedy of Albafica’s fate and why Shion mourned him so. 

He recalled even now, the scene, the moment: Shion had been in the process of lighting the last of the tall, white tallow candles they had placed around the altar in Pisces Temple, where Albafica’s cleaned and still form laid. How beautiful he was, even with death’s pallor upon him; rather than making him appear dead, it seemed but to highlight the sculpted, porcelain-like perfection of his face. His cheeks and lips remained faintly flushed, which Shion had explained was a residual effect of the red roses’ poison that had flowed through his veins and remained there even now. 

“Well, this vow I make,” Shion had said, standing back to take in the candlelit form, “your death will not have been in vain, Albafica. And should I live to see this war end, I will ensure that no Saint of the Pisces Cloth shall ever suffer the solitude you suffered again.”

And with that, with the gravity of the vow still on his breath, he had leaned over the still form and pressed a soft kiss on Albafica’s pink lips. 

Moved, Dohko had stood from his chair and gone to join the other. Laying a large, callused hand over Albafica’s, which laid clasped upon his breast, he said with tears standing in his eyes, “I vow as well, you will not have died in vain.”

But as he had leaned in to seal his vow as Shion had, his friend had placed a hand over Albafica’s lips and gently turned the head so that a pale cheek lay upturned to receive the kiss. Dohko had obliged, though he’d glanced up curiously at his friend, who had had his face turned away. 

It was only tonight, as the newly anointed Pope poured him a glass of after-dinner wine in his breezy sitting room—open at one end to the balmy, starlit night—that the mystery of that action finally unlocked itself to Dohko. 

“You’ve intended to do this since that night,” he said as his friend handed him his glass and seated himself beside him. “Since the wake we held for Albafica together—you intended to have this antidote created, didn’t you?”

Giving him a sidelong glance as he took a sip from the burnished glass, Shion’s eyes seemed to smile a bit sheepishly. “Yes,” he said at last, setting the glass down. “How did you know?”

“That kiss,” Dohko said, “his lips—they were still poisonous, weren’t they? That’s why you wouldn’t let me kiss them. You poisoned yourself on his lips, to show that you would never go back on your word.” 

Shion smiled wanly. “Yes,” he admitted after a moment, eyes turned aside. “After all, if I didn’t live to see the end of the war and couldn’t keep my promise, the poison would have made little difference either way. But on the off-chance I did live, I wanted to remember his pain, to ensure that I would not forget his sacrifice in the strife and sorrows that were bound to come as the war progressed.”

There was a pause in which Shion studied the colorful patterns on the thick, woven rug beneath his feet. Then Dohko said, “Shion, my friend, I am very glad that Athena chose you to be the new Pope of Sanctuary.”

Surprised, Shion raised his face to look at his companion and found Dohko’s eyes aglow with his old heartfelt smile—the one Shion hadn’t seen since the war had begun. 

“And why is that?” Shion asked, touched, if slightly thrown by the abrupt statement. 

“That much devotion to the memory of a single soldier when you will command armies upon armies, generation after generation—I think that’s rather admirable in a Pope of Athena, isn’t it?” 

Shion chuckled a bit. “Admirable, perhaps, but I’m sure there are more important things that will determine whether I’ll be a good Pope or not.”

“Not to me,” Dohko said, grinning, “because now I’ll know, at least, that you’ll think of me while I’m away for however long it will be.” He paused, giving Shion a half-petulant, teasing glance. “You will, won’t you?”

At that, Shion had to smile as well. “Every day, my friend,” he said softly. “Every day.”

After that, they lapsed into silence, enjoying the quiet breeze and the twinkling of the stars high above.

~Owari~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked that—my first completed StS fic (and it's not about my beloved Shaka? :*(), though I've got some longer ones in the works. Written in an unusual style for me (more abrupt and fast-paced than usual)…did it work? *sweatdrop* Please review and let me know what you thought!


	2. Omake: Ending the Solitude of Pisces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A humorous omake (bonus) chapter taking place much later, likely after the Hades Arc of "Saint Seiya." Warning: utter crack. Please read with a grain of salt. ;-)

“You know, old friend,” Dohko commented one day as he and Shion reclined on a pair of cushioned chairs on the sunny portico of the Pope’s Temple, “I’ve been thinking about that antidote you had made up for the Demon Rose poison all those years ago.”

“Yes?” 

“Well…” Dohko began slowly, vivid images of the scene he’d inadvertently walked into last night flashing briefly through his mind, “I wonder if… perhaps it worked a little too well…”

As if on cue, a high string of giggles broke the stillness of the warm afternoon, followed by much squealing and a few uncomfortably drawn-out, muffled moans. 

“Oh, not again,” Shion groaned, and rising swiftly from his chair, stalked to the edge of the portico and shouted, “Aphrodite, take it to Cancer Temple or don’t do it at all!!” From the lofty vantage point the Pope’s Temple was situated upon, his voice rang quite a long ways. Down in Aries Temple, Mu raised an eyebrow before turning back to his mending. In Leo Temple, Aiolia paled and began hurriedly packing up the lunch he had been about to eat. Perhaps he’d ask Shaka if he could come dine with him in his temple. 

Back up on the Pope’s portico, Shion had just turned back toward his seat, still fuming with righteous indignation. But before he had taken a step, Aphrodite’s laconic voice came wafting up to him.

“Is it okay if we just move to Capricorn? Cancer’s too far, and Shura’s here, too!”

It was quickly followed by a “Shut up, Aphrodite!” that was half-hissed but still unmistakably the Capricorn Saint, while Deathmask's characteristic guffaws filled the background. Shion’s face was turning many ponderous shades of purple by this time, so Dohko took the opportunity to call cheerfully, “Sure, Capricorn’s fine!” and then led his sputtering friend back to his chair. 

“Does that child really share the same noble soul as Albafica?!” Shion demanded when Dohko had seated him again. 

Dohko patted him consolingly. “Well, look at it this way: maybe he’s just got a lot of catching up to do!”

At a withering glance from Shion, Dohko laughed and tugged him into his arms where his friend clutched at his broad shoulders in surprise. He smiled down at him, tenderly this time. “And maybe we do, too.” 

Several things clicking into place, Shion nodded dumbly. After that day, he was much kinder to Aphrodite and his amorous ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that cracktastic little omake. Please drop a quick review if you have time!


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